Whenever you buy something second hand, there will always be some niggles associated with its former life, or lives. I bought my vehicle from a small independent dealer in North East Scotland. Overall, he turned out to be a trustworthy character and the car had been evaluated some time before by David Phillips, the guy who now services the vehicle for me. I managed to secure a small discount off the asking price (which was higher than average, but this was a very tidy vehicle).
A few days later, I drove very gingerly off an ice-covered lot, leaving in my wake a collection of Bentleys and BMWs of which the locals had tired (Aberdeen oil money results in exotic cars getting bought and discarded).
I had done a pretty close visual inspection and was allowed an unsupervised test drive, but still there were small elements which I’d missed. These included a few tiny spots on the leather interior, a small ding on the frunk and a minute nip in the passenger door as well minor scuffing of the outer driver’s seat bolster.
The ‘Savannah Beige’ interior was not that attractive. Left to my own devices, I might have selected pale grey instead but actually I have grown to really like the sand coloured inside. I’m still not that keen, though, on the strong green tint applied to the windows…maybe blue wasn’t an option. Speaking of options, I was lucky to get quite a range of these:
The tyres were, well, tired and some stone chips appeared on the bumper cover once the dealer’s coat of blue coloured wax was washed off.
The frunk (or luggage compartment) had a gap at the front and the headlights needed to be refitted flush to the wings (that is just my OCD coming to the fore). These small dimensional variations were probably well within factory tolerances in 1999, but they got under my skin and I knew I’d have to get them fixed.
Driving along the motorway, I began to notice the smell of leather and the slight whiff of oil heating up. It went like a rocket with no weird rattles or warning lights. So far, so good.